Dreamy Terror
by zaeiou
Summary: Harry is having dreams filled with blood, violence and gore. Hermione does everything in her power to help him. But the question is not why Harry is having thse dreams, but what will be the result of them.
1. Through the Portrait

Note: names of characters and places are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. (If they even have rights, I'm not so sure)

I'm truly sorry for all the complications. I've messed up this story when trying to edit it and for some strange reason, my story has been deleted from FanFiction.net. I am editing all the chapters from this story, making them longer and more interesting, so it will take me a while to post chapters I have already written. Sorry again. Enjoy and please review.

CHAPTER ONE: THROUGH THE PORTRAIT 

**~*~*~*~**

_When does reality end and our imagination begin? Every day these two factors collide to form our world, our reality. But what happens when we cross the invisible and fragile boundary that separates truth from fiction? Will we realize that we are living a lie? Or accept it as the truth?_

**~*~*~*~**

He woke with a start. Sweat was running down his cold face.   
           

"It was just another bad dream, just another one," he whispered into the warm light. He looked around the dimly lit dorm room, with its deep piles of clothes and spell books. His scar was tingling painfully. He shook his head, crawled out of bed, and gathered his homework and books for his following classes. "Nothing unusual has happened so far at school. I guess I should be happy, without Voldermort to worry about… so far.  But I need something that as exciting and as adventurous as my dreams. Not another 'oh he's so brave to face you-know-who' adventure. Just something exciting." Harry paused, wondering if he was becoming as arrogant and attention seeking as many people believed he was. He shook his head, determined never to turn into that, and continued to collect his books as he hurried down the stairs and out the portrait.   
             

 It was like any other day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The cool autumn breeze was blowing lightly, carrying the scent of dewy leaves and sending silent ripples through the placid lake as the giant squid surfaced lazily and drifted across the water. The bright red and orange colors of the scattered trees danced in the light, and he was late.   


"Mr. Potter, you are late again," said Professor Snape with an icy glare. "If this happens one more time-"

"It won't. Trust me," Harry quickly replied, trying to cover a yawn at the same time. He shuffled over to his seat at the back of the classroom. He settled down and tried to ignore the shifting eyes and sympathetic looks from Gryffindor students and the smirks from Slytherin.  

"20 points from Gryffindor. And let this be a warning to _all_ of you." Snape turned his head and cast a glaring eye at the Gryffendor students, finally resting his hateful look at Harry. "Lateness will not be tolerated. Not in _my_ class."

"Great," Harry thought to himself. "I'm late, tired and just lost 20 points." He silently opened his bag and retrieved the materials needed for the Veritaserum Potion. Once Harry had all the required materials before him on the counter, he looked up at the board where Snape had placed the instructions. He quickly read the instructions needed to make the potion, realizing it was the most complicated potion he had ever attempted to brew. 

1. Fill caldron 2/3 with boiling water. After water boils for two minutes, set to a simmer.

2. Smash .3 lbs. Of beetle eyes and add to simmering water. – When added, the beetles should produce a faint hiss and a murky gray color.

Harry stared blankly at the board, hoping he could pull off a D for this assignment as he continued to read the instructions.

7. Stir mix for 10 minutes, rotating stirring positions every 5 seconds, starting with     

clockwise, while adding .1 oz of pollinated liver juice and .4 lbs. of diced salamander toe every 8 seconds. – The potion should be producing quarter size bubbles and should now be clear. NOTE: Precise and accurate measurement and timing is key.

He cast an eye around the room and saw most of the students had completed the first few steps of the potion. Harry set to work, chopping his herbs and crushing his beetle eyes. After a few minutes of chopping, stirring and measuring, he quickened is pace, attempting to catch up to them and trying to concentrate on his work while Professor Snape breathed down his neck, watching his every move and criticizing his work.

"Potter, what in God's name are you doing to those roots? They are suppose to be _finely_ shredded, not mutilated to bits of nothing! And watch that potion of yours. It's too thin and - green! 15 points from Gryffindor for failing to follow instructions, Mr. Potter." Harry ignored Snape's comments, much to his professor's distress as he continued to 'mutilate' his roots. Hermione looked over at Harry as he began to stab the remaining chunk of his root, muttering. 

"35 points. Idiot. Die! Goddamn, worthless git!" Harry muttered, a little too loud as he saw Professor Snape cast an evil eye in his direction. Ron tried to muffle a laugh and avoid Hermione's stern glance. Harry allowed himself to exhale when Snape continued down the row of tables without taking off any more points from Gryffindor. As the class progressed, Professor Snape, who seemed to enjoy taking his more-abundant-than-usual frustration and anger out on him, continuously ridiculed Harry as he walked up and down the rows of desks, inspecting his students work and progress. 

"Your time is up. Bottle up your final work," Snape smoothly said. Then he turned his gaze and glared at Harry, "or whatever you have managed to produce during your time and bring it up to my desk to be graded. You will continue with the Veritaserum Potion tomorrow and will finish in time for the full moon cycle. Now, your homework," Snape growled as his students moaned in frustration, "will be to write a 15 inch essay on the Veritaserum Potion and its uses during wars and in government to be handed in on Wednesday. By that time, your potions should be complete and mature. They will be tested on a selected few for efficiency."

Harry quickly cleaned his spot and placed his remaining materials in to his bag and sighed in relief as he headed out of the cold dungeon that was Professor Snape's classroom. He heavily breathed in the autumn air as he climbed the winding stairs up to his next class. The warm air that filled the halls slightly lifted Harry's spirits, but not quite comforting him. He continued to breathed in the sweet air heavily as he climbed the latter and opened the trap door to the classroom and nearly gagged. As he entered his 3rd period class, he heard Ron choking behind him.

"Damn fumes! I'm gonna - (cough) - get brain damage from all the - (cough) - goddamn incense that - (cough) - crazy git burns. It's killing my inner eye!" Ron wheezed out. 

Divinitation didn't go smoothly either. After a bumpy Potions class with the Slytherins, Harry settled down in the perfume-filled, dimly lit room of Professor Trelawney's classroom. They were studying premonitions, which seemed pointless to everyone, excluding Lavender and Parvati. For a reason unknown to Harry, and a majority of the class, they were always eager to learn and accepted Professor Trelawney's babble as truth. 

"Remember class, premonitions may be seen in the conscious or unconscious world. A trigger in your memory, the unraveling of a dream, all lead to the future of others, or yourself. It is highly important that you master this gift and see what lies ahead. The inner eye sees many things," Professor Trelawney said as she silently glided around the room. "For today's class, we are going to continue to study premonitions. This time should be used to exercise your inner eye, making premonitions more accessible. You will translate any dreams or feeling you have had over the last week with a partner. You may begin." 

Harry and Ron sat together on their puffs, failing to 'exercise their inner eye' as they mindlessly talked about Quidditch and their professors. When they noticed Professor Trelawney silently approaching them, they quickly feigned interest on possible premonitions. 

"I can't see a thing, unless I'm receiving a premonition of the world being engulfed in complete darkness," Ron said not to quietly. The room burst into whispered fits of laughter as Professor Trelawney silently glided over to Ron. 

"My dear boy," She whispered in a hypnotizing tone, "you must clear your mind and defog your inner eye. I predict that you will not receive a premonition until the closing of the semester. Therefore, you must concentrate harder and free your eye."

"You want me to pluck my eyes out and give them to you as a Christmas present? That way they'll really be free," muttered Ron under his breath as he glared at Trelawney. "Bet she didn't predict that coming," Ron mumbled to Harry as Professor Trelawney turned her back and glided away out of frustration. 

"Though my inner eye says differently, I have a strong feeling that you will never master or be able to comprehend the fine art of receiving premonitions," Professor Trelawney said in a misty manner. The class settled down again without any further disruptions. Professor Trelawney approached each student, attempting to guide her students into the art and skill of premonitions.

"Defog your eye and reach into the depths of your soul," she said to a Hufflepuff. "You will know the answer you are seeking, it will come to you if you concentrate," she whispered to Dean Tomas. "My dear boy, I fear, if you have the gift of foresight, you will be able to see the cruel destruction of someone close to you," she said at last, glancing sorrowfully at Harry.

"Figures," Harry flatly said, not caring who heard him. 

 After an hour of silence, countless attempts to recall odd feelings and dreams and useless comments, Professor Trelawney excused them with homework concerning their findings on their future. 

"Now class, for homework you will hand in a log of your dreams and strange moments to be decoded and translated next week. I predict that all of you," she turned and smiled at Lavender and Parvatil, "will return to class successful and eager to unravel your future."

The student quickly filed out of the tower, relieved to leave the musty room and hear the noises of the school. Harry and Ron quickly headed off to the Great Hall for lunch, while he faintly heard Ron making stabs at Professor Trelawney's babble and Snape's icy manner. Ron's insults quickly turned into a full out argument with Hermione, which ended in the silent treatment for both of them. Harry's day was not going smoothly. After lunch, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked across the lawn and headed towards Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. As they neared his hut, Harry heard a faint roar. 

"Great, Hagrid decided to bring in some wild beast for us to play with. I hope it bites Malfoy's head off," muttered Ron as they approached the class. The students gathered around the pen, all trying to see what new animal they were going to study. Hagrid walked towards his class, on the other side of the fence, wearing dragon scale gloves and a thick jacket. 

"OK now, gather round. I've been wantin' to show you these beauties for a while. Couldn't till yer seventh year, also needed Dumbledore's permission fer this," Hagrid said while beaming brightly. "Now I don't want none of you ter go screamin', you'll make 'em angry." He looked around the hushed class, glad to see all his students listening intently. "OK then, I'll go get 'em. They're round the back." Hagrid turned and walked to the far side of the pen and disappeared behind the corner. 

"I bet that old fool's gonna get himself fired for this. Or better yet, killed," sneered Malfoy from behind a group of Gryffindor girls. "Dumbledore's got to be mad to allow this thing to teach us, or handle animals he can't even control." Malfoy smirked as he got approving nods from the other Slytherins. Harry spun around, wand outstretched, glaring at Malfoy. 

"Watch it, Malfoy."

"Is that all you have to say? Watch it? Why Potter, you're slower than I remember. That's what happens when you hang around poor Weasel and that filthy mudblood. Or maybe it's because of that oaf of a teacher. He so dumb he can't even string a sentence together and say it correctly." Malfoy smirked and Pansy gave a shrill of laughter. "You know what they call people like you, Potter?" Malfoy said, leaning in closer. "Fucking he-" Malfoy froze in mid sentence, eyes wide with fear and disgust. The rest of the class grew silent. Harry slowly turned around, unsure if he wanted to see what Hagrid brought out to show them. He gasped in amazement. 

"This here is a Norwegian ridgeback. His name is Norbert." Hagrid proudly said as he looked around at his students, grinning widely.

"You named that thing?" Malfoy said in disgust.

"Well, er, yah. I mean, don't you name yer pets? Anyway, Norbert here is one of the finest dragons you'll find out in the wild. Their scales are-" Harry's mind faded away from the lecture. Why had Hagrid brought Norbert back? Was he going to keep him at school and try to keep him as a pet like last time? "-like cool conditions n' prefer ter live in the mountains-" What if someone found out that Hagrid had Norbert illegally during his first year? Malfoy already knew. Would he recognize him? What if – oh shit. No. Harry snapped back to reality as he saw Lavender nervously approach Norbert with much resistance. She lifted her shaking hand towards the dragon, which was now sending smoke from its nostrils. Slowly and carefully Lavender raised her hand and let out a piercing scream when the dragon turned its head and sent small flames from its open mouth. It reared up on its hind legs and flapped its powerful wings. The whole class screamed and ran back to the castle. 

"No! Don't scream, you'll make 'im mad. Yer just need ter be calm!" yelled Hagrid over the screams and shouts. But it was no use. All the students were halfway back to the castle, excluding Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were slowly backing away. "Ah, I thought it would be interestin' fer you ter see a real dragon. 'N I thought Norbert would be perfect. He's tame n' all. Just got scared."

"It was really interesting, Hagrid," Hermione said reassuringly. "Lavender can be a nervous person and new things, that's all. Maybe you should try again some other time. And give us all a warning ahead of time."

"Yah, maybe a two months head notice," said Ron. "So we all can mentally prepare ourselves," he muttered to Harry when Hagrid's back was turned. 

***           *           *           *           ***

The rest of his day swirled and collided painfully together in a blur of mishaps, misfortune and misery. After dinner, Ron and Hermione (who were on speaking terms again) walked in silence back t the Gryffindor tower to find Harry busy scribbling answers for his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. They approached Harry and settled down beside the roaring fire and started their endless pile of homework with Harry. They sat there in silence; only Ron spoke to ask Hermione countless questions. Their presence went unknown to Harry as he sat, muttering to himself. Time slowly dragged on. They noticed that Harry continued to work diligently on his homework, only pausing to cover up a yawn. They didn't bother to question him about his absence at dinner or tell him to stop and go to bed. 

***           *           *           *           ***

At the end of his long day, Harry struggled through endless piles of homework, unaware of his two friends sitting beside him, trying to figure out how to turn a burning oak twig into a bubble of cool, dazzling light for Transfiguration. He knew he had to master the transfiguration for tomorrow's class, as they were advancing to more complex orbs. 

"Flammifer Circulus. Flammifer Circulus!" Harry yelled as he pounded his wand against the flame. After a few minutes of unsuccessful attempts he turned to the cause of the 7 Year War of the Fere Family for Professor Bins. Harry stared at his parchment in disbelief. He only had a poorly written introduction and a few extra lines that weakly supported his thesis. Harry looked up from his parchment to see Ron asleep and slightly drooling over his unfinished history essay. He gave out a yawn, opened _A History of Magic _and flipped through the pages aimlessly. As Harry sat, absorbed in his homework, he failed to notice the soft steps approaching him. 

"Harry, you look exhausted. Why weren't you at dinner to night? Ron and I were worried about you. You have to stop working and get some sleep," said a stern, but kind voice.

"I can't." He peeled his tired eyes away from his book and looked up to see Hermione, his best friend. "I need to finish this. If I don't, I might as well throw myself into the lake and let the giant squid strangle me, just to save Snape the trouble of killing me himself." A concerned look swept over her face in response to his lame joke. 

"Don't say that. You know Snape would never hurt you. He's a teacher _and_ a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He swore to protect you. And you know Dumbledore would never let anyone near you if he didn't trust them." 

Harry glared at her with his mouth open, trying to find something to say. "So? I doubt that's gonna stop him." He looked at Hermione who matched his glare in return. "Anyway, why are _you_ telling me to go to sleep? _You're_ the one who always is the last to go to bed _and _the first one to get to the library _and_ finish all your work with _twice_ the effort." She opened her mouth to protest but quickly closed it, unsure in how to argue her case. Irritated, she picked up her backpack.  

"Just don't stay up too late, ok? You look like you could use some sleep, with all the homework we're receiving, extra curricular activities, the O.W.L's to study for and your Quidditch practices, I have no idea how you manage it all." When she got no reply, Hermione sighed deeply. "Sweet dreams." She turned her heels and walked up the stairs, which led to the girls' dormitory. Harry watched her disappear up the winding staircase before turning his attention back to his unfinished essay. Harry sat next to the fire, all alone, excluding Ron, for what seemed like eternity. His burning eyes stung like a knife smoothly gliding down his skin. He again flipped the endless pages of his history textbook, trying to find what little information would help him complete his 20-inch assignment. He covered a yawn as he scanned a promising paragraph about the outcome of the 7 Year War. He quickly read the paragraph and scribbled down the information, writing long and complex sentences to fill up space. After barely finishing 20 inches, Harry turned to his uncompleted Divinitation homework. It was a quarter past one. 

"I'll take a rest, just to relax… only to relax… to get… some sleep…" 

After slaving over his homework, Harry left the common room and trudged through the dark halls of Hogwarts to until he came to the picture of a bowl of fruit. Anger over Snape and his life was boiling inside him, waiting to burst and spill onto the floor. He tickled the pear and entered the kitchen, slowly, silently, as if to make his presence unknown. Harry cast an eye around the dimly lit kitchen, glad that all the house elves were asleep and unaware of his presence. He glided over to the kitchen counter, glancing at the knives that were just out of his reach. 

"Meat," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "That's what I'll have tonight. A red, blood-soaked steak." Harry picked up a long, sharp blade and carried it to the fridg.  He silently grabbed a piece of steak, which was as long as a human arm, and walked carefully to the counter. After waiting patiently in the dark, his blood soaked meat called to him, begging him to be cut. Harry ignored the plea at first. But it soon grew into piercing screams of terror. He moved to the steak, drew up the knife, and carefully, smoothly and glided the blade down the red piece of death before him. But that one simple cut sent him hurling across the line. He began to slice and stab the red meat before him. And as his blows grew more intense, so did the screaming voice of the steak, begging to be slashed more. Then all of a sudden, he stopped. The voice had ceased and he looked down at the once perfect piece of meat, now deformed and bleeding. He looked down and saw his clothes, once crisp and new, now smeared with dark bloodstains and flakes of meat flesh. In that one brief moment, Harry had thought he had gone insane. But the thought that scared him more was the fact that he had enjoyed his outburst of fury. 

Harry bolted upward, clutching his pounding heart and gasping for breath. The feeling was gone, as if it never had happened. He looked around his dark, shadow-covered room. The air was still and heavy with humidity. There was no sound heard but the steady breathing of other students. He reached over to his bedside table knocking over a few books as he felt for his glasses. He paused, listening for the sound of waking students, when he heard none, he put on his glasses and lifted his wrist, trying to read the time in the dimly lit room. It was 1:42. Harry gave a sigh, threw back his sheets, opened the curtains of his four-post bed, and gingerly walked to the window of the Gryffindor tower. His head was pounding and his scar tingled. He tried to clear his mind, but his mind continued to turn back to his bizarre dream. Harry couldn't make sense of his dream, but no solution came to him. 

"Just a nightmare. Just another nightmare." As he stood there, he felt his body shaking violently. Not from cold, but fear. 

"Don't – remember - I'm suppose - to be - downstairs," Harry said in between gasps. He had no memory of leaving the common room, of walking up to his room, of going to bed. He only remembered his blood filled dream. 

"Dream. Only a dream," he whispered before he collapsed back onto his bed, exhausted from the events that never happened.

**NOTE: The incantation that Harry used for his Transfiguration homework, 'Flammifer Circulus' means 'flame-bearing circle' in Latin. I thought it would fit since a majority of J.K Rowling's spells have a Latin origin. Just a fun little fact. ******


	2. Trust Me

Sorry it took me so long to update. I just got back from a trip and haven't been able to write all summer. Hope you enjoy. I know it's short. Sorry. Also sorry for the cut off words. I'm trying to fix them (but I don't know what the problem is so it's pissing me off).  
  
Chapter Two: Trust Me  
  
Harry was walking down a long corridor. The clanging of chains and roaring screams surrounded him and chilled him to the bone. Fear glided down his spine as three cloaked figures slowly glided towards him. His limbs grew stiff and he was unable to move, unable to run.  
  
"Get away! Don't come near me," Harry yelled franticly, trying to move his frozen body. He screamed louder as one more dark figure moved soundlessly towards him. He gasped as the dark, faceless figures continued to advance toward him. One of the cloaked forms reached Harry and grasped his shoulders firmly.  
  
"Harry Potter," it whispered, dripping with evil and malice. "Harry Potter."  
  
"No!" croaked Harry, franticly kicking and clawing at his captor. He heard a faint grunt in the distance as his fist collided with the figure's obscured face.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
He bolded upright, vision blurred and breathing heavily. He looked around and saw four faceless figures surrounding him.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?" Neville timidly said. He looked at Harry with fear and concern in his eyes. Harry gave a slight nod.  
  
"Pretty bad dream, huh mate?" said Ron, rubbing his jaw and clasping Harry's left shoulder tightly. "You were yelling and woke us all up. We came over to see what the matter was and we found you sleeping. We tried to wake you up, mate, yelled your name and everything. Then you got all violent when I touched you and punched me," Ron said, pointing to the small bruise that was forming on his lover jaw.  
  
"Sorry," Harry said apologetically. He glanced over at the worried faces of his dorm mates. "I'm OK now, honest. It was just a bad dream, that's all," he said quietly. Just another one, Harry thought as he watched his friend return to their beds. Harry closed his eyes and spent the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The following day was spent practicing Quidditch. Harry was determined to win the Quidditch Cup in his last year at Hogwarts for Gryffindor. The final match against Slytherin was two months away, but he continued to work the team vigorously as if the match was tomorrow. At lunch, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione as she lectured them about their study habits for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s.  
  
"Honestly, you two really need to start preparing for the exams already. The results determine your future! I can't believe you two haven't at least made a study grid. I made mine weeks ago. If you two took a break from Quidditch, I'm sure-"  
  
"Take a break? Are you mad?" yelled Ron. "Don't you want us to win the Cup? Or would you prefer Slytherin winning it? Honestly!  
  
"Fine, practice Quidditch. But you should start studying soon. You'll regret it if you don't start early. It's not going to get any easier."  
  
"Hermione, stop. Just stop. We'll start studying after practice. Happy?" Harry said sleepily, muffling a yawn with his hand.  
  
"Have you been pulling all nighters again?" Hermione said in a concerned voice. Harry shook his head, took a gulp of pumpkin juice, yawned, and spat the juice out across the table, chocking. "I knew it! Hermione shouted. "Harry, this isn't healthy for you. You need rest. If you don't, you'll never be able to concentrate and study for the exams."  
  
"Hermione, I do sleep. It's just." Harry paused, unsure if he should tell his best friends about his dreams. He sighed, took a deep breath and told them everything.  
  
" He's been getting bad dreams. He woke up the whole bloody dorm last night. Neville thought he was being killed by some psycho murderer." Ron paused for dramatic effect. "But I know what's wrong with you, mate," Ron said quietly between mouthfuls of pecan pie. "You have insomnia." He smiled widely and looked at his two friends for approval.  
  
"Really Ron, I'm sure Harry's figured that out himself." Hermione said matter-of-factly. Ron's cheeks steadily clashed with his flaming red hair as he turned back to his unfinished pie. Harry turned to Hermione, pleading for help with his eyes. He opened his mouth but Hermione cut in. "Look Harry, I'd love to talk with you. But this can't wait. Just trust me on this, please." Hermione said, grabbing her bag and running out the Great Hall, not waiting for a response from Harry.  
  
"Well then," Ron said watching Hermione disappear behind the heavy wooden doors. "Shall we?"  
  
"Yah, let's go." The two boys got up, picked their brooms off the table and headed back to the Quidditch field.  
  
* * * * *  
  
When Harry and Ron returned from practice, the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall lit the massive room with its frequent lightning bolts. The two quickly preformed evaporating spells on their robes and sat down for dinner. During their second helping of pot roast and baked potatoes, the doors to the Great Hall flew open and a slender figure stumbling with heaps of parchment rushed through.  
  
"I've been doing some research while you two were out enjoying yourselves." Hermione said as she shot them a look of disapproval. She sat down and threw the rolls down onto the table before her. "While we were talking earlier about your, uh. sleeping disorder, I realized that it sounded familiar. But not in the way Ron described it. I went to the library and tried to find the book I had read it in. I can't believe it took me so long to find! I read it ages ago for our history essay on the Fere family." Hermione drew out a roll of parchment from the pile and handed it to Harry. "I took some notes for you so you can get some back round information. It's nothing serious," she quickly said noticing Harry's worried look. "It's very common among wizards, especially those who practice Divinitation since their mind is continually exercised. It's called Opacimity. It's similar to lucid dreaming except when you experience lucid dreams, you are dreaming while being aware that you are dreaming and can deliberately influence the course of events to what you want. Opacimity is caused when a person's brain is overworked due to stress or excitement. The results caused by it differ from person to person but always occur while they are sleeping. And unlike lucid dreaming, they're not aware that they are sleeping and wake up feeling like they've never slept," she said handing Harry the remaining rolls. Harry unrolled one of the many scrolls and scanned the neat notes Hermione took. "I wrote down some people who were reported to have Opacimity. Look, Luanda Woodworth had a mild case of it." Hermione said leaning over the table inspecting the roll of parchment in Harry's hand. " She was reported to have intervals of consciousness and unconsciousness. During her unconscious state, she would dream about almost everything. That's how she invented the Comet 360. She dreamt its invention. Christopher Plampton. He was a professor for History here at Hogwarts. His first signs of Opacimity came after his retirement at age 82 when he." Harry soon toned out Hermione's endless talking. He new her intentions were good, but it wasn't helping him. When he slept, he wasn't dreaming of brooms, he was dreaming of blood. ".Extremely successful witch too, even with all the problems that Opacimity caused for her," Hermione paused and looked at Harry with a blank stare. "You don't believe me, that it's nothing to worry about, do you?" Harry froze, snapping back to reality. He did not even bother looking up at his friend. Slowly, Hermione reached into her robe and drew out a small, folded piece of parchment from her inside pocket. She put it on the table in front of her. "I also found this while I was researching. I thought it might convince you that this is nothing to worry about and completely harmless." She pushed the parchment towards Harry. He picked it up and held it between his fingers, unsure if he should read it. After a quick pause, he unfolded the parchment.  
  
Roseland Potter (1902-1985) Fascinated by Divinitation and studied it throughout her life. Reported to have Opacimity, which resulted from her avid study of Divinitation. With her power of Divinitation and with the aid of Opacimity, Potter was able to predict some mild future events (the first time in reported history).  
  
Harry stared at the parchment, unsure of how he should react to his news. Ron leaned over and scanned its context.  
  
"Brilliant!" Ron said sarcastically. "It runs in the family."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione snapped.  
  
"What? That Potter woman is probably his grandma. So it skips a generation or two. Big deal." He glared at Hermione, and then turned to Harry.  
  
"Now you have an excuse to miss Divinitation. Lucky. But, hey. can you tell me what's gonna be on the Potion's exam? Since you can tell the future and all," Ron chuckled and received a glare form each one of his friends.  
  
"Harry, I showed this to you so you know there's absolutely nothing to worry about. This is nothing to get worked up about. The dreams your having are just symptoms caused by Opacimity. I don't think there's anything you can do about it but wait until it passes. And this only lasts a year tops. It's perfectly harmless."  
  
'Hermione's right you know. You really shouldn't worry bout this, mate," Ron said. Harry looked up from the parchment and gave a faint smile.  
  
"Um, thanks guys. It means a lot that you're doing this for me." Harry plastered his best fake smile onto his face, hoping to convince his friends.  
  
"That's what we're here for. I'm for moral support, Hermione's jus for doing all the work for us. Kidding!" Ron said quickly as a carrot stick missed his face by a hair.  
  
"Now that you know there's nothing to worry about, and have full confidence that this will pass quickly and without any harm," Hermione said with a smile on her face, "you can go study for the exams."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry soon forgot about his dreams and Opacimity due to the constant pressure presented by his teachers. Though Harry had gotten into the habit of arriving to class on time, his grades were dropping as well as his skill with a broom. Though as hard as he tried, his problems did not stop there. Harry knew he was sleep deprived, possibly suffering from insomnia (as Ron had predicted. He did not quite believe Hermione yet), and he kept on having strange dreams. And to make matters worse, the whole school new that he was having nightmares, and the snide remarks made by the Slytherins did not help his mood at all.  
  
"I keep telling you, they're only signs of your stress," replied Hermione during their study hall one day.  
  
"But they seem so real, as if I'm living them. Even when I fall asleep, I never feel that I've truly slept. I feel that I'm constantly awake, even when Iknow I'm not."  
  
"Really, there's nothing to worry about. Getting carried away in a blood filled dream is. perfectly normal. You shouldn't worry about it. Trust me. I once read in a book that wizards and witches often have dreams that are far stranger than muggles'. It's a common fact. Since our lives are, lets say, more complex than muggles, our mind needs to work out or problems while we sleep, which results in dreams such as yours." She turned her gaze to Harry and gave him a reassuring smile. Harry let out an annoyed sigh.  
  
"Hermione's right, Harry. You shouldn't stress out about a bunch of silly marks. You're still better than Neville." Both Harry and Hermione gave Ron glances. "I mean, you're not failing any of your classes. Are you?" Harry shook his head. "Then what's wrong with you?"  
  
"Don't you think I would know what he hell is wrong with me Ron?!" Harry yelled and glared at Ron. Ron opened his mouth to respond-  
  
"Hey, Potter, had any scary dreams lately? Why don't you run to your little mudblood friend and ask for some hot chocolate. Maybe Weasel can give you one of his sister's hand-me-down teddy bears to sleep with at night, that is, if they haven't sold it for money already!" Malfoy sneered across the Great Hall.  
  
"That bastard better watch his little ferret face, before I blow it up," muttered Ron under his breath. Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.  
  
Harry turned his attention back to Hermione, trying to ignore the roaring laughter coming from the Slytherin table as Malfoy streaked like a girl and started running around in circles screaming, -They're coming to get me, they're coming to get me! Save me! Save me! - before collapsing on the floor, shaking with laughter. He looked at his only reasonable friend at the moment and continued their conversation while attempting to tune out Ron's endless stream of curses.  
  
"But that isn't the only dream I had. There were others more bloody and violent. In one dream I was outside at night, right? So I'm walking along the grounds, minding my own business singing "Kim" by Eminem, and I wander into the Forbidden Forest. I guess I didn't realize where I was because I kept on walking. I'm following this old, grass-covered trail and it leads me to places I never expected to find in that forest, you know? A cabin with a garden patch, a graveyard - Oh, I ran into your dad's old Ford Angla, Ron. Nearly drove over me," Harry said turning to Ron whose ears suddenly grew pink around the edges. Harry quickly continued, sensing Ron's discomfort. "Anyway, I'm walking in the Forbidden Forest when all of a sudden this gray, furry thing comes charging at me. I take out my wand and I'm fighting to the death with this koala that just attacked me."  
  
"What's a koala?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "It's a muggle animal which can get extremely vicious if provoked. It's only found in Australia and New Zel-"  
  
"What's it doing all the way in England?"  
  
"RON! Will you stop interrupting!" Hermione said in a shrill voice. She turned back to Harry. "Anyway, go on."  
  
"So I'm fighting with this koala and I win. So I'm standing over the koala ready to kill it when the murderous little thing jumps up. But instead of being a koala, it's me.  
  
"You were about to kill yourself? Are you crazy!?" yelled Ron. Some Gryffindor students turned their heads to see what was going on.  
  
"Ron, shut up. Just shut the fuck up! You're not helping me by making these shitty comments of yours!" Harry slammed his history textbook shut, picked up his quill and parchment and headed out of the Great Hall.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The following day wasn't any easier for Harry. He and Ron were not on speaking terms, Hermione refused to choose sides and worst of all. his dreams were becoming worse by the day.  
  
Harry woke up one morning. His head was pounding and his vision was blurry, even with his glasses on. He got out of bed and headed to his Transfiguration class, once again, late. While sitting at his desk writing, his hand was shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't stop it. He felt paranoid, restless and cold. At lunch, Harry sat picking at his turkey sandwich with a glazed look in his eyes. Concerned filled both Hermione and Ron's eyes.  
  
"Are you sure you're ok, Harry?" said Ron hesitantly. He was still treading water with his and Harry's relationship. "You don't look yourself."  
  
"Ron's right, you know," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Harry lifted his head and looked at her. Both Ron and Harry gave her a surprised look. "The quidditch game against Slytherin is only five days away. You're usually bouncing off the walls with excitement." Harry looked down at his food and mumbled something inaudible. "Oh, Harry. Stop! I know something's wrong. Why wont you tell Ron and me. You know we'll support you."  
  
"Unless you've turned evi- Ouch!" Ron silently rubbed the spot where Hermione had jammed him in the ribs.  
  
"Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about."  
  
"I'm fine. I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. Once Christmas vacation comes, I'll be the same." Harry gave them a weak smile, hoping that he looked normal. happy.  
  
"You're not still getting those dreams, are you?" Ron asked. Harry paused, pondering whether to tell them the truth or lie, once again, to his best friends.  
  
"No. I haven't had them for a while. I think they're gone."  
  
"Really." Hermione stared at Harry, piercing him with her gaze. She looked at him for a while and gave a faint smirk. "Harry, take this, just to be sure." Hermione handed him a small vile filled with a red colored potion. "It's a Gordarian Sleeping Potion. I brewed it when you were first complaining about your dreams. I'm extremely glad that I did. I read somewhere that if you take it, it will help clear your mind and allow you to get a full nights sleep without any dreams." Harry opened his mouth to protest but Hermione quickly responded. " I know you said that you're not having them. But if you take this, it will give you a dreamless sleep for a whole week. Witches and wizards who went through the same ordeal you're going through now have used this potion to sooth their dreams. Hospitals around the world use it to calm patients when they first enter into care. And if this doesn't work, I've already looked up about ten different sleeping potions, so I'm sure one of those will work if this one doesn't. But it's the best one out there and it has worked for centuries, even on the most severe cases of insomnia and Opacimity. But just in case. Harry, I'm worried about you. So is Ron. Just take this. It will work, trust me." She smiled in her usual, friendly way and gave him a pat on the back for reassurance. Some how, Harry didn't trust her. 


	3. Sweet Dreams

Chapter 3: Sweet Dreams

After dinner of roast chicken and warm apple pie, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked through the cool halls of Hogwarts, through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and settled down in the Gryffindor common room for a game of Exploding Snap. While playing, Harry forgot about all his worries, problems and complications that were swarming in his head. He lost all sense of time and of the world around him. And for the first time in months, he laughed, a true, genuine laugh. Hermione and Ron were thrilled to see him acting normal, acting like he had for as long as they've known him. He seemed… himself. The happy, brave boy who was not afraid to face his worst fears. He acted as if he had just woken up from a bad dream. After countless rounds of Exploding Snap, Hermione settled down in an over-stuffed chair to finish her Transfiguration assignment, and Harry and Ron sat by the roaring fire, playing a game of wizard chess. Time quickly passed for all of them, as they failed to notice as the common room began to thin with people. At 11 o'clock, Hermione looked up from the endless books and papers that scattered the table and gave a sigh.

"We should all be getting ready for bed. We have an early morning tomorrow; Hagrid's expecting us at his hut for breakfast at 7. You two really should get to bed and get some sleep."

"Aw, Hermione, we were just starting a game of chess. Besides, Hagrid's –"

"Expecting us to be at his house. And I don't think you want to disappoint him, now do you?"  The two boys gave each other questionable looks. 

"Uh, Hermione, you do know that Hagrid's, well… not exactly a morning person. He usually wakes up at 12… the earliest."

"Oh, Harry, that's besides the point. You would wake up too if you had guests coming. He told me that he was going to make an excellent breakfast for all of us. " Yet again, the boys gave questionable looks. The sound of Hagrid making food didn't sound too appealing to both of them, even Hermione. But she was determined to make Hagrid feel good, as well has Harry; even if it meant eating inedible food or starving until lunch. As Hermione sat, wondering if she could really stand the taste of Hagrid's food, she heard Ron's voice coming from the fireplace. 

"Uh, Hermione, have you _tasted_ Hagrid's cooking? It's unbearable. We could go down to the Great Hall, grab some _good_ breakfast and get to Hagrids, only ten minutes late," said Ron as he munched on a chocolate frog. 

"Ohmygod! What idiots!" Hermione muttered under her breath. "It doesn't matter. Stay up as late as you want. Just remember, I'm dragging all of you out of bed at 6:30 sharp. And no, Ron. I will not let you go and get some good breakfast. You're going to eat Hagrid's food so you don't make him feel bad about himself. We're all going to eat it, whether you like it or not," she said with a snap. Before heading up the stairs, she turned and faced her two friends, still sitting by the fire with stunned expressions painted over their faces. Before she could stop herself, or think about what she was about to say, two, unspeakable words came flowing out of her mount. "Sweet dreams." With those words, Harry's mind stabbed painfully back into reality. All his old worries and fears swept over him, slowly trickling through every vein in his body. His face grew cold and his body stiff. His head swirled and his vision blurred. Harry reached up and cradled his head in his hands, muttering inaudible words under his breath. Ron looked at him, sensing the change in Harry. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He was unsure of what to say and how his friend would react. Pushing his doubt away, Ron quietly said,

"Hermione's right, you know. We really should get some sleep. Especially you. We're gonna have an early morning. You know Hermione's gonna drag our asses out of bed at 6:30 sharp. There's no use arguing with her. And unless you want to drink one of Hagrid's special concoctions that he probably invented himself, you'd better look and act like you got some sleep. And you might wanna get ready just a tad bit earlier, just to grab something proper to eat." Ron rolled his eyes, knowing that, no matter what happened, Harry would probably be up all night. Checking to see if Harry was listening to him, he continued. "Do you still have the potion Hermione gave you?" Harry gave no reply, but slowly shifted his eyes to Ron's, with a piercing gaze of fear. Ron quickly dropped the subject and they finished their game of chess in silence. Before Ron went to bed, he made sure Harry had drunk every last drop of the sleeping potion. With that, the two boys, now all alone in the common room, headed up the staircase to their dormitories.

*           *           *           *           *

 Harry sat wide awake in his four post bed, listening to the sounds to the deep breathing and snoring coming from the sleeping boys. After making sure that everyone had fallen asleep, Harry silently lifted his body out of bed and glided to his trunk. He unlatched the lid and pulled his invisibility cloak out from its hiding place. As quiet and a ghost, and unseen by no one, Harry walked silently through the shadow-covered halls of Hogwarts. With every turn, a new fear and anxiety filled Harry. Though covered by the invisibility cloak, he felt unseen eyes, following his every move. He looked up and down the long, stone hallways of the school, trying to catch a glimpse or sound of an approaching teacher, forgetting that he was hidden by his cloak. He quickly entered the classroom and moved towards the statue of the one-eyed witch

"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch with his wand. The statue's hump opened to reveal a dark passageway leading to the cellar of Honeydukes. He climbed into the passage, careful not to band his head on the low ceiling. 

"Lumos!" a small but bright light that came from the tip of his wand quickly traveled through the narrow passage as Harry stumbled across the many twists and turns. After what seemed like forever, Harry reached the trap door leading to the cellar of the famous candy shop. With his feet quieted by the thick layers of dust on the old, wooden floor, Harry dashed up the stairs, through the empty store and entered the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade. Once on the streets, Harry unveiled himself, and carefully folded his precious cloak into a tight ball. He slowly walked along the many rows of shops, passing Dervish and Banges and Zonko's Joke Shop along the way, as he caught his breath and whipped the sweat from his eyes. Suddenly, he felt more vulnerable. As if all the unseen shadows of the world were pressing their beady, glazed eyes at him. He walked through the town streets, shifting his blazing green eyes back and forth, looking at everyone, feeling their presence around him. After wandering aimlessly for quite some time, Harry silently slipped into The Three Broomsticks and ordered a warm butterbeer. He sat down in the dark corner and listened to the drunken talk of the other men around him. He silently sipped the warm, sweet liquid, felling calm and relaxed as the feeling washed over his body and slid down his throat. As he sat, all alone, his head began to pound profusely, despite the sweet sensation that had filled his head moments before. His eyes heavy from the lack of sleep he had not received all week, burned in their sockets. Harry closed his lids and let his mind drift to another world. 

He is at Hogwarts. He is sitting besides the roaring fireplace in the Gryffendor common room. Hermione and Ron sit beside him, all on plush, red couches. Ron gets up. He lifts the warm Trickle fudge from beside the hearth. He hands a generous piece to Hermione, then to Harry. He smiles at his friends. Ron grabs some fudge for himself. Ron sits beside them. He hears Ron and Hermione laughing merrily. They take a huge bite of the warm, chewy fudge. Harry opens his mouth to eat. He chews happily. The taste of warm fudge mixes in with blood. Harry opens his mouth. His bleeding lip slightly stings. Hermione gasps. Ron drops the fudge.

A crash was heard in the back of Harry's mind. His eyes flew open and landed upon a young, slender woman lying on her back as a puddle of red glistening with broken pieces of glass surrounds her. He quickly realized that she had knocked over her drink when she fell. He sat there, watching her, as her drunken body twitched like a crushed spider, dying a cold, slow death. He realized that in her drunken state, she was unaware of the harsh, cruel reality that was her meaningless life. Harry drained the glass of its liquid, which no longer gave him warmth and comfort from his chaotic life. He got up and silently glided out the door, ignoring the many stares and whispers of the hags and vampires around him. Once outside, the cool breeze sliced at his delicate skin like knives. He quickly walked back to Honeydukes, fearing that, if he stayed out in the cold, the wind would cut his skin and he would slowly bleed to death. He entered the store, trampled down to the cellar and proceeded, for what seemed like a short distance, back to the classroom with the one-eyed witch. Once back inside the school walls, Harry walked uneasily to the Gryffindor Tower, aware of the tiredness that was spilling into his mind. Out of his tired and confused state, Harry failed to drape his invisibility cloak around him, exposing himself to the watchful eyes of the many paintings that hung on the walls of Hogwarts. As Harry climbed the twisting and changeable stairs, he overheard a whispered conversation among the portraits. 

"The end is near. He will soon be gone."

"And what of the boy?"

"His fate is already decided."

"Tomorrow. We shall see."

"May they be kind to him."

Harry paid little attention to the rumors floating among the gossiping portraits. They were known for spreading rumors and speaking of prophecies yet to come. He reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was peacefully sleeping in the bottom left corner. Harry gazed at her as she woke up.

"You shouldn't be out, dear," the Fat Lady said with a yawn. Harry muttered the password and entered the Gryffendor common room, relieved that no one was in sight. Once inside, Harry noted the few rays spilling into the dark and chasing the shadows away. As he stared into the light, the whispers from the portraits penetrated his mind. What were they talking about? Who was the boy? Harry pondered these questions, but was unable to explain any of them due to his state of mind. He turned his gaze from the window and climbed up the stairs to his dorm, once in a while crashing in to the cold wall due to his instability. He felt all sense drain from him with every step he took. When he was about to open the door, he realized the scenery around him had changed. Harry was amazed that he did not find this alarming, for he knew exactly where he was. 

"Sweet dreams," he whispered hoarsely, as he drew out his wand and carefully stepped into the darkness.


End file.
